


Cry For Judas

by LadyPadfoot93 (BekahBear218)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, BPD!Sirius, Cry for Judas, Dissociation, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Language, Marauders' Era, Mental Health Issues, Mountain Goats, Self-Harm, Sirius Black Angst, Songfic, The Mountain Goats
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 06:24:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5037295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BekahBear218/pseuds/LadyPadfoot93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius' mental health has never been the greatest, but his 5th year in Hogwarts proves to be the worst one that he has yet to see. It certainly didn't start after the biggest mistake that Sirius has made, but that's certainly when it escalates. </p>
<p>Inspired by the lyrics of "Cry for Judas" by the Mountain Goats</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing. Especially not the characters, plot, or song lyrics.

_Some things you do just to see_

_How bad they'll make you feel._

 

“What’re you talking about, Prongs? It’s the prank of the bloody century!”

“Are you out of your fucking mind? Do you want to kill him?” James drops his rag and balks at Sirius.

“You know he won’t go all the way to the tree. Sissy Snivley.” Sirius shrugged, still scrubbing the desk in front of him, trying to push the prickling in his stomach to the back of his mind.

“You can’t assume that. He’s a persistent little shit. No, we can’t do that.” His hand settles on his hip as he stares at Sirius who appears to be indifferent.

“Too late for that, mate.” Sirius glances up, his face not quite a smirk – almost a sneer – and chuckles softly as James’ jaw drops.

“You told him? You fucking twit! This is literally the worst month to – fucking shit, Pads, do you want him dead and Moony in Azkaban or worse?” He kicks over the desk that he had been working on and curses as he storms out of the room.

Sirius shakes his head and laughs to himself. _It’s not like Sniv is going to try anything. I doubt he’d even go outside after hours_ …

He could feel his shoulders tense and the prickling heat in his stomach churn. _So what if he does go and get spooked? It won’t be the end of the world… it’ll at least give James something else to fucking talk about._ Nausea reaches his throat. _You fucking asshole. Your comfort isn’t worth a life… but nothing will happen… still a piece of shit… shit, shit, shit, shit, shit…_

His mind continues to wonder, seeping into every hypocrisy that he can find in himself, finding each disgusting piece of himself.

_No wonder Mum fucking hates you. You aren’t even hurting someone for a cause. You piece of shit._

He shakes his head to try to ward off his thoughts. He focuses on scrubbing each part of the desk in consistent movements and time. Eventually his thoughts sync with his movements. _Shit, shit, shit, piece of shit, hate myself, hate myself, shit, shit…_

Finally Flitwick enters the, now clean, classroom. “Excellent, Mr. Black and – erm – where is Mr. Potter?”

“Oh, uh, he had some bathroom issues…”

Flitwick squinted with vague disbelief, but sent Sirius off.

As Sirius walked down the hall, he wondered if he should go outside and join the group.

_Remus is a big boy, I’m sure he can deal with one moon alone… you piece of shit, you never care, never care…_

Tears threaten to fall. He rears back his hand and punches the wall. He curses as he feels the sharp stone dig into his flesh. Blood rushes in his ears as he hits the wall again with his other hand, feeling the scraping, listening to the reverberating smack. He hits with his right hand again, feeling the rock dig deeper. He looks down at his hands. His left knuckles are barely scratched, blood barely surfacing, while he can see the blood on his right hand more clearly, threatening to drip. He wants to see them bleed, _see them bleed_. His mind wanders to the solution sitting in his suitcase, but races quickly back to Remus. He has to be there for him.

He slips through the passageways and finally transforms before stepping outside. He cold wind hits his face as he dashes to the tree. Before he can dart to its base, something hits him from the side, knocking him away. He feels antlers digging into his sides. He snorts indignantly before heading back towards the castle with Prongs trailing behind him. The pair duck into a doorway before transforming.

“What the fuck, Sirius? Honestly, I didn’t think you could fuck up this horribly.” James smacks his shoulder, more than playfully, but not quite full force.

“What the hell happened?” Anger swells in Sirius’ chest – mostly at himself. The nausea of fear creeps into his throat.

“Not what could have happened if I hadn’t come… he got to the tree and pushed the damn knot. It fucking opened and Moony started howling. Of course the dumb git wouldn’t move, so I pushed him, but the tree started having a go at us.”

“Are you okay? I mean damn – "

“My wrist would still be broken if Peter wasn’t decent at healing charms. Snape got pretty banged up, but it could’ve been a _lot_ worse if the passage hadn’t closed.” James’ hands were aggressively running through his hair as he paced the small entryway. “Please just leave. Fucking go.” He stopped and looked up at Sirius. “Bloody, leave!”

“What about –“

“Pete and I can stay with Rem just fine. I can’t handle seeing you right now. Just fuck off, alright?”

The anger for himself pricks and swells in his stomach. He says nothing before turning back up the passage. His mind races. _They’ll never talk to me again – why would they? I’m so fucking stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid piece of shit, shit, shit…_

His thoughts fall in time with his footsteps up to his dorm. He doesn’t bother changing before laying down on top of his blankets, desperately trying to ignore the empty beds around him. He falls asleep quickly to the rhythm of his thoughts and the pulsing of the pain on his hands and in his chest.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a bit short, but I have something longer for the next set of lyrics.
> 
> It's worth noting that I thought the lyric said "thoughts" not "slots" until I verified them before posting this. But, I think it fits regardless.
> 
> Note that this chapter is a lot of depressed thinking and thoughts and details of self harm.

_Sometimes you try to freeze time_

_'Till those slots are a blur of spinning wheels_

Sirius mindlessly chews, not taking noticing much taste or texture as he stares at the wall of the great hall. After a week of lunches alone, he thought that maybe he’d feel some sort of sadness or longing, but everything mostly felt like sand. A bright laugh pulls him away from the wall and stings his insides. He notes James’ swaggering footsteps from the door and can see Remus’ auburn curls bouncing a few inches above him with Peter, a head shorter, falling in beside him.

Sirius stands up and walks the long way around the tables to avoid the trio, ignoring the jeers of his brother’s friends as he passes between the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables.

He feels the numbness eating at his stomach, heavier than it has been since the summer. He feels the fog in his head grow thicker as blunt anger wells in his stomach. Of course Reg’s an asshole friends would make things worse. It’s not like him being a git should phase me. He claims to have gotten over his brother’s hatred of him last year, but memories of the past summer shake him even within his distant state of mind.

He thinks of little as he walks to his room, letting the numbness and warped emotions move around inside of him.

He closes his curtains around him as he goes to lay in his bed. He closes his eyes, feeling the emptiness in the pit of his stomach sit. He pictures the few times that he has seen Remus’ face in the past week. Anger on his face, his eyes brimming with tears and disappointment the day after. Sharp glairs throughout the week. A cold indifference the last time he saw the boy’s face.

Sirius imagines what Remus will say when he finally talks to him again. “Thoughtless… traitor… you piece of shit, you never care, never care, never care…” He pictures James and Peter joining in the chorus.

He sits with the void that has been eating him, the self-hatred that is pressing on him. He lets it steep, biting his lip to feel the pain to see if it can break through the void or to bring him back out of this nightmare. _You piece of shit, shit, shit, shit, shit…_

The taste of metal brings him out of his thoughts enough for him to sit up. He brings his hand up to touch his lip. The red on his fingers gives him a slight sense of relief and a small rush that makes him want more. Before he can ponder his options, the door opens. As he hears the other boys’ voices in low whispers, he concedes to staying in his bed instead. He focuses on the flavour of his blood and the taste of his pain, physical and mental.

He thinks of life without his best friends. Of Remus happy with someone else, dangling his new life in front of Sirius. Of his brother, dying with a Dark Mark because Sirius wasn’t strong enough to help him. Of the notion that he could choose to suspend his conscious in the emptiness of death rather than facing any of it. With these thoughts, surrounded by the soreness deep in his bones, he drifts off to sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next one will be out much sooner. I considered putting the two together, but I'm going to keep the format of one lyric that the beginning of each chapter


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a lot of what was in this chapter before I wrote anything else for this fic.

_But I am just a broken machine_

_And I do things that I don’t really mean_

Bass from the ongoing part shakes the walls. The door slams shut and Sirius’s back hits the wall. His head is spinning and the darkness, swirling. He feels her body flush to his, vaguely understanding how his senses calculate it all. He can’t remember her name or if he got her name at all. She was in Ravenclaw, or perhaps Slytherin, from the silver that had been reflecting from the tie that was now on the floor. She’s one of the ones who brought the liquor and, perhaps she’s the one who can make Sirius forget – forget faces and names, abuse and love, even how wrong her curves feel against him.

His hands blindly follow her lead, somehow eliciting the proper responses. Her nails drive into his skin, pleasure and pain, only dulled slightly by a deeper ache and the buzz of alcohol.

As they move, thoughts grow and reveal themselves. It’s never relief, he never really expects it. Pain to cover pain and fuck it all in the end. Sweat never drowns the sadness; strangers never make him forget who makes him happy; alcohol never numbs the memories; and sex never really makes anyone forget that they’ve forgotten how to feel.

One small moment, perhaps, makes everything feel smaller in place of something more artificial, but it comes right back with a renewed sense of emptiness. The absence of her body heat registers briefly. “We should do this again sometime.” He feels the sickening sweetness from her voice deep in his veins. The door opens briefly as she exits the closet.

Sirius slides down the wall until he is sitting on the floor. His head hits his knees. The world spins as the emptiness in his stomach grows heavier.

Water fills his eyes and turns his skin into fire as they roll down his cheeks. The fire engulfs his skin, his insides. He wishes to think of nothing until the light engulfs him.

He wakes up to the maroon upholstery that he had seen every day for the past 5 years. He slowly inhales before breathing out with a sharp “Fuck.”

His head is pounding; the internal numbness nearly overtakes the throbbing. Almost immediately, the drapes are pulled back, light flooding his vision. He instinctively pulls the sheet over his face. “Damnit!”

“Sorry!”

Something flickers in his stomach, not quite breaking through the numbness. “’S okay, Wormy,”

Sirius says, slowly moving the blanket back down as the drapes close, the bed shifting with Peter’s added weight.

“I got you something for that.”

Sirius chuckles. “‘That’?”

Peter smiles uneasily. “Your hangover. Here. I borrowed a bit from James. Just don’t tell him.” He hands him a vial.

Sirius smiles, taking the vial and drinking its contents in a single swig. He closes it and tosses it on the bed. “Thank you.”

Peter watches Sirius intently, the faintest hint of sadness in his eyes. “Where’s James?”

“Probably sulking since you aren’t on the field to help him.”

“He can sod right off. I’m not even on the team this year.”

Peter laughs lightly.

“And Remus is studying? Or cursing my existence?”

Peter gives him a stern look. “ _Studying_ in the library.”

“Mmm.” The weight on Sirius’s chest is increasing as he becomes more awake. “Shouldn’t you be... reading or watching James or something.” He hears his voice wavering. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes. _Fucking useless, pointless... fucking crying? Really?_

“I wanted to see that you were okay. You were sort of a mess last night.”

“Mmmm.”

Peter scoots onto the bed more and crosses his legs. “You’re... you’re not okay, are you?” It’s more of a statement than a question. “You’re never out this much... you’re not even remotely excited about quidditch or even pranking. It’s like – ”

“Why the fuck would I be okay?”

“You’ve been like this all year and it’s getting worse. It’s not like you never fight with us; you and James fight all the time. This was a big fuck up, but it’s not like Remus isn’t going to – ”

He sighs, attempting to discreetly wipe off the tears from his face. “Drop it okay?” his voice cracks.

 “I just – ”

“Leave it.” He rolls over. “I’m sleeping.”

Peter looks at him, hurt and concerned, but stands up and walks across the room.

-

A few hours later the door slams open, James’s voice overtaking the silence, Frank Longbottom from 6th year is trailing behind him, listening. “Did you see that shit that Smithers tried to pull?

Honestly, who does he think he is?”

Frank shakes his head. “Assholes like that are all over. He’s not the worst honestly. If you ignore him, he tends to bugger off.”

“I haven’t said three words to him in the past week, but every damn time, I wind up with a bludger in my face – ”

“Would you two shut the hell up?” Sirius barks.

“What the hell are you doing in bed, Padfoot? Too much fun last night?” James laughs.

“What the fuck ever, James.” His stomach rolls and sinks as the weight on his shoulders sinks into him. Irritations wells inside of him at himself, at James, at the world for existing in this moment.

“Calm down. You coming to dinner?”

Sirius grunts. He inhales deeply to collect himself. He sits up and pulls back his curtains. He changes quickly as James sets his quidditch robes on top of his trunk.

Frank and James chat idly and Sirius concentrates on not hitting them or falling asleep as they head downstairs to meet Peter in the commonroom.

When the reach the Great Hall they find their usual seats (noticeably empty without Remus’ presence). Sirius makes a plate, and moves food around more than he actually eats as he nods at Peter’s comments about a charms essay that they were to start on. He begins to mention Remus’ thoughts, but quickly backpedals and sends a sad, apologetic look towards Sirius before he stops talking altogether.

James happily changes the subject, “You should re-join the team, Sirius, honestly. I know it goes against your whole not-doing-anything-for-anyone shtick, but – ”

“For the love of Merlin, can you shut the hell up? No one gives a fuck about your damn game or how much better you are than everyone at it.”

“Whatever, it’s not like – ”

“Sod the fuck off.” Sirius stands quickly, pushing back his nearly untouched plate.

He storms out of the Great Hall, shoving past a few terrified Slytherin first years.

He shakes as he paces the halls – up stairs, past classrooms and cupboards – searching for something, anything: reasons, sensible emotions, a fight, a hole to die in.

After a while, he sits in an empty corridor. His back is against the wall with his knees pulled up to his chest. _Stupid, stupid, stupid… every fucking time… I need to just_ work, _just fucking calm down… stupid, stupid, stupid…_

He feels the wall give way behind him. He jumps to the side and sees a door. He carefully turns the knob and opens it. The room is small, but cosy. It has several plush couches surrounding the fireplace and towards the back there are some small shelves filled with old books that somehow fill the room with the scent of parchment, making the room feel more like home. _Like Moony_. Sirius shakes his head at the thought and sits on the couch.

As he stares into the fire, his thoughts continue. _It’s a surprise that no one has kicked me out before this anyways. I’m sure my parents are on their way there – but they don’t really count._

Sirius contemplates moving to the floor again, as the warmth doesn’t suit his current emotional state. It does help though… _Like I should feel good anyways._

With that thought, he sinks further into the chair’s warmth and something shifts on the in table beside him. He glances down – a chocolate bar is on top of the stack of books on the table. He lets out a small chuckle. _Remus would kill for this room_. He sighs sadly.

As if on cue, the door creaks open. Sirius would have known those auburn curls from a mile away. Remus’ face lights up ( _that can’t be right, he’s probably mad_ ) and he walks towards Sirius.

“Padfoot! I’ve been looking for you. I figured you’d be at the later dinner with James, but they said you’d walked off.”

“Yeah I – I just – I’m just a perpetual asshole, I guess.”

Remus gave him a pointed look, but Sirius kept his eyes firmly on the fire, determined to ignore the pull of Remus’ eyes.

They are silent as Remus sits on the couch beside Sirius. He takes in a breath to speak, when Sirius blurts out, “Listen, Moons, I – “

“No, no. It’s okay, Sirius.” He touches Sirius’ shoulder lightly for a moment. “You’ve apologized _so many times_ … I feel sort of awful that I haven’t said anything, you know…”

“No, I deserved it. What I did was absolutely inexcusable.” Sirius folds his arms and chances a glance at the werewolf.

“But no one can change what’s already happened. A lot of crazy is going on around the world and I…” He sets his thin, soft hands over Sirius’ which he had been rubbing together, tearing at the dead skin. “I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I was mad over the summer, or hell, if something happened in Hogsmeade –“

 “None of us are going to get hurt, okay? The Ministry… can use some work, but Dumbledore is on it, we’ll be safe.”

Remus looks into his eyes. The dark green sends chills down his spine. “You know that’s rubbish. Maybe Dumbledore… but, I mean, he’s only one wizard. And the Ministry is so unstable, it’s terrifying.”

“We’ll make it work, okay? James and Pete and you – you’re all great and – and we can get through it.” _They can, but what’re you going to do, Black? Bark the Death Eaters away?_ Sirius draws his hands back. “Who the hell am I kidding – you guys are great, honestly. You wouldn’t need me anyways. James has all the ridiculous bravery you could want, you’re the smartest person in this damn place, and Pete is a better strategist than even James. I’d just be moody and insane – “

“Sirius,” He puts his hand on Sirius’ shoulder. “You are more clever than James and smarter than I am about most anything that they haven’t written a book on and – you’re just – you. We wouldn’t be the Marauders without Sirius Black.”

Sirius gives him a forced smile and a shrug. “If you say so, I suppose I can let it be.”

Remus half-smiles. He doesn’t seem entirely convinced of Sirius’ submission, but scoots closer to him. He loops his arm through Sirius’ and leans against his shoulder, sliding down to make their heights match.

While Sirius’ thoughts still chatter in the distance, he can’t help but be overtaken by moment. “Chocolate?” he offers Remus.

Remus gladly takes a chunk and hums lightly as he chews, staring into the fire. Sirius has a square himself, a rarity for him. The taste mixes with the smell of the books around him and the pressure of the boy on his arm and it is the most peaceful that he has felt the entire year.

“Is this room even on the Map?” Remus asks.

“I dunno. Maybe we ought to add it.”

“Maybe.”

_Or we could keep it for our own._


	4. Chapter 4

_Long black night, morning frost._  
_I’m still here, but all is lost._

His ears are ringing even after he slams the door shut. As he moves towards the curb, he can only see the world around him through a fog. He recognizes the shape in front of him as the Knight Bus and manages to make his way in. The bag on his shoulder is suddenly much heavier. He barely manages to eke out James’ address, shaking his head mildly at the driver’s assertion he looks like he needs a healer. He pushes thoughts of the fight down. He focuses on the pain in his hand and cheek. He hopes that the pain in his stomach isn’t anything worse than a bruise. He doesn’t know how much time passes, if any, before he is at the Potters’.

He stumbles out of the bus, the only thing solid is the pain and the eyes that are seared into his memory. He gets to the door and knocks.

“Two in the morning, Pads, really?” a voice comes before the door opens completely. When James sees him, his face falls. “Mate, are you okay?”

James moves to Sirius’ side as he mumbles a noncommittal answer. James takes his bag, setting it down just inside the door and guides Sirius to the couch.

Mrs. Potter calls, “Is everything alright, dear? Do you boys need tea?” They hear her move from the hallway into the kitchen.

“I… I’m fine,” Sirius croaks, weakly brushing James’ hand away from his arm.

“No, you aren’t. What happened?” James sits beside him, leaving space between them.

“I’ll put the kettle on, then,” Mrs. Potter announces.

The pain around Sirius’ eye is pulsing. His hands won’t stop shaking. “I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it.”

James moves his hand towards Sirius tentatively. “Can I?”

Sirius shakes his head, wincing. James withdraws his hand. Sirius can feel his eyes burning. “I just… They don’t stop. They never _fucking_ stop.” He notices that the shaking has moved from his hands to his whole body. The pain in his stomach lurches. “I fucking left him there, James.”

James looked at him sadly. “It’s what you had to do. You can’t stay there. Their damn near killing you”

“He shouldn’t have to stay either.”

“He wouldn’t have come, you know. You’ve offered before and – ”

“But what if this was the one time? Maybe the one time he was able to get past their grip! You didn’t see him. He was so scared, Prongs. And I just fucking left him.” His breath catches and he realizes that he is sobbing. He can feel things getting fuzzy again. The room is a blur as he tries to count his breaths. Sirius hears Mrs. Potter’s worried gasp and a clank of ceramic on the coffee table. Sirius could hear her muffled voice as parts of his body warm and then cool again.

The pain in his eye subsides to a dull ache. His stomach no longer hurts, but the empty ache remains. She gently coaxes him into sitting up. James hands Mrs. Potter a glass full of blue liquid. He isn’t sure when he had fallen over or when James had stood up, but he doesn’t give it much consideration before obeying Mrs. Potter’s command to “drink up.” He feels some of the weight lift from his shoulders as he exhales smoothly. The room begins to grow dark as the potion sets in. The fear in those eyes are the last thing he sees before his mind stills to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter, but the next one is being posted very soon and is longer.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of angst. The next chapter will be less angst for sure though. 
> 
> Note that this chapter shows some alcohol abuse, so proceed with caution.

_Speed up to the precipice_   
_And then slam on the brakes_

  
  
Sirius rolls over, his head aching dully as the sharp maroon of his bed curtains come into view.

He hears a hoarse whisper from outside the curtains. “I just don’t know what to do, Moons…”

“There’s not much we can do but help him get through it.”

“We can’t help him get through it if he kills the bloke… or kills his mum more like.”

“Who’s getting killed?” Sirius asks, pulling open his curtains.

Remus is sitting on the foot of the bed across from Sirius, nearly dressed, his shirt wrinkled and unbuttoned. James is sitting up, still wrapped in the sheets. They trade a sad look before glancing to Sirius.

“No one,” James answers. “It’s just...”

Sirius walks over and pops onto the bed beside Remus. “C’mon. Let me in on the juice.”

James and Remus exchange glances again.

“It’s… a bad scene, Pads,” Remus tells him, setting a hand on his knee.

Sirius feels his stomach drop slightly. He sets his hand on Remus’. “It’s not the first bad scene I’ve been in, I’m sure…” He laughs, hoping to alleviate the dread that is growing.

“Reg,” Remus whispers.

Sirius’ stomach churns. _Fucking of course. It’s what mum wanted. It’s why you left.. Why you left him._ tries to ignore the ringing in his ears. He looks from Remus to James. “He’s not… It’s not…”

“The mark.” James’ voice cracks. “He has the mark.”

Sirius looks blankly at the haphazard stack of books on James’ desk. The dread, the despair, the anger – at Regulus, at his mother, at himself – it swims around him. He feels himself floating around it and above it until all he can feel is the emptiness in him as he floats above.

He steps from the bed mechanically. He doesn’t remember dressing himself or leaving down the stairs of Gryffindor tower. He finds himself in the hallway near the great hall and he is looking, his insides empty, barely detectable. He can see himself sifting through the crowd of people.

Regulus is leaning against the wall, laughing with a group of Slytherins. His eyes meet Sirius’ and his smile falters. He pushes off from the wall to stand. He begins to excuse himself from the conversation.

Sirius follows him down the hallway at a distance. He stops and turns to Sirius.

Sirius speaks before he can. “Really, Reg? I thought you might have had a fucking chance, but this – ”

“A chance? A chance at what, Sirius? What chances do I have left?”

Sirius breaths in, trying to reel himself in. “I could have helped you! I told you not to – ”

“ _You told me?_ Yeah and why would I fucking listen to _you_? You left me! This summer, you fucking _Left me!_ You always fucking leave me.”

“I _tried_. I fucking tried.” He doesn’t know how loud he is until he hears it reverberate from the stone walls.

“You still left me with them. You left me alone with a couple of psychopaths – ” Regulus nearly meets his volume.

“So that’s why you went off and got _that shit on your arm_.”

Regulus winces. “You don’t fucking get it, do you?” His voice is almost a whisper.

“ _I don’t get it?_ I’ve told you – and we’ve had plans – ”

“That was years ago, Sirius. I’ve made new plans. Just stay the fuck away, alright. You’re good at doing that.” Regulus pushes past Sirius. He punches the wall a few feet down, letting out a yell.

Sirius leans against the wall and slides to the ground, cursing. _Why the fuck would he want to talk to you? Of course he ran to them. You left him. Fucking idiot. You don’t care. You never care, never care, never care, never care…_

“Pads, are you okay?”

Sirius opens his eyes, suddenly aware of the moisture on his face. James is crouched beside him, Peter and Remus close behind.

“Your hands!” Peter squeaks, huddling down next to him.

Sirius glances down at his hands, seeing the blood shining through on his palm where his nails have been baring into his skin. He flinches away as Peter comes closer before standing up.

“It’s fine. Go on to breakfast. I’m not hungry.”

“You really should –”

“Please. I just need space.”

* * *

  
“Are you even paying attention?”

Sirius looks up at Remus. He can swear that the browns and yellows were swirling in the green of his iris. His stomach fluttered slightly before the thoughts intruded again. _What a creep. Like he would want you? Why are you even looking? Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid…_

“Sirius!”

“Hmm? Er, yeah, ahh Giants… and wars…”

“C’mon, mate,” Peter says from beside him. “We’ve got to pass these midterms. Remus is doing his damndest.”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “I guess I’m not in a good mindset to learn, hmm?”

“You’ve not been in a mood all semester!” Remus responds shortly.

“I guess being disowned and watching your brother become Death Eater garbage will do that to you.” He stands up, kicking over the chair behind him. He picks up his bag and swaggers from the room, slamming the door behind him. “I don’t need to study for this rubbish,” he mutters. _You’re going to fail regardless. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid_...

He kicks his bag under his bed when he gets to their room. He plops down on the bed and takes a bottle from under his pillow. He takes a swig before stowing it back in its hiding place. He feels his stomach churn in response to the liquid, but he barely feels it over the piercing emptiness that has been present for days now.

Sirius hears the door open. “Sirius… I’m really sorry. I know you’ve been having a time – ” Remus shuts the door and walks to Sirius’ bed. “I shouldn’t have said what I did back there, I’m just worried about you, mate.”

He sits beside him, the concern ( _pity_ Sirius’ conscience taunts) in his eyes is piercing.

“You don’t need to be sorry. I’m being a right prat. I don’t deserve your help. Or anyone’s. Shouldn’t you be helping Jamie and Pete?”

“James is helping Pete with ruins. I’m rubbish at ruins.”

Sirius gives an empty chuckle. “I should be down there. They’re hopeless.”

“James has gotten pretty good, though.”

Sirius nods.

They sit in silence for a while. Sirius notices the tilt of the room and just how strongly Remus smells of Earl Grey today.

Remus clears his throat nervously. “We really need to talk about getting you some help, mate.”

Sirius laughs. “Who is ‘we’? For what?”

“Who do you think? Your friends! The Marauders and Lily, Marlene… we’re not blind, you know.”

Sirius scoffs.

“We know you’re walking around blitzed off your arse half the time. We’re your friends – we can tell.”

“Well, you can stop worrying. I know myself better than anyone else.” Sirius stands up.

Remus stands up beside him, beginning to follow him across the room.

“Just step off!”  Sirius swings a punch at his bedpost, a few feet from Remus’ head.

Remus jumps slightly, but is ultimately unmoved. Sirius’ eyes grow large and he launches himself across the room.

“Just get the fuck out!” Sirius yells. “Please.” It comes out as a whisper.

Remus shakes his head and leaves the room.

Sirius curses and launches a fist at the stone wall. _Stupid, stupid, stupid… you’re exactly like the rest of them. Carry the fucking Black legacy without even being a Black anymore… selfish, impulsive, piece of shit, shit, shit, shit..._

Finally, he stops and looks at his bloodied hands. “This is why no one can love you.”


End file.
